


Keep Your Distance

by Cheloya



Category: Pet Shop of Horrors
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-27 07:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10804380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheloya/pseuds/Cheloya
Summary: Old, imported. Dee is not his preferred nursemaid. Miraculously, Vesca's headache dissipates.





	Keep Your Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Vesca doesn't believe in pronouncing single consonants.

"You act as though you have never visited a doctor's surgery before, Vesca," Dee chided, fussing with a small wooden chest - apparently his medical kit.

"Don't get sick much," Vesca responded thickly. His head felt foggy with the need to sleep. He'd handed in his paper, though, and that was all that really mattered; there were still four whole days 'til his next exam, after all. "Don't like to waste money just on check-ups."

Dee clucked sympathetically, and paused to shake out his thermometer. He paused, squinted at it for a moment, and let out a disappointed sort of sigh. "My apologies, Vesca, but it appears my kit is a little outdated. I'll just have to estimate." Vesca sniffled, stared balefully, and blinked.

"Is that actual mercury?" He asked, incredulous, and Dee turned slightly pink as he put it away. He raised a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes for a moment, and then touched the other hand to Vesca's sweaty brow. His grimace was pretty, but not promising.

"High fever," Dee muttered, dropping the hand to press pleasantly cool fingers along the underside of Vesca's jaw. The blond winced as the pressure hit his swollen glands. "Badly infected..."

Vesca swallowed as the hands pulled away, and found himself pushed suddenly and inexorably backward. Shitty as he felt, he was more than happy to comply with the insistent pressure and lie down on Dee's couch, even if he was pretty sure regular frat boys didn't just give out free examinations to their guy friends. His head hit the armrest. He closed his eyes for about two seconds.

Then Dee's fingers were tugging at the waistband of his jeans. He jerked to the side with a protest of "Whoa!" and fell off the couch with a yelp. He lay there, stunned and disoriented, for just long enough to hear an irritated sigh.

"Glands, Vesca, glands. I assure you, I have little interest in your virginity."

Vesca scowled at the disdainful tone and at the insinuation. "Who the hell says I'm a virgin?" He demanded, forgetting about Dee's encroaching hands in favour of defending his sexual prowess. He gasped a little at gently probing fingers, just inside the bones of his hips, and Dee smirked at him.

"And I thought you were such a nice boy," he quipped. Vesca glared. Dee, being Dee, completely ignored him. "Merely a sinus infection, or some such other virus, Vesca. I'll make tea." He stood with more grace than Vesca thought half the girls he'd ever met could ever summon, and paced lightly to the sideboard to make good his promise.

"Damn, Dee, do you solve everything with tea?" Vesca grumbled as he hauled himself half-upright, then resigned himself to sitting on the floor beside the couch when his head started to feel fuzzy again. Dee chuckled from his kitchenette, and tossed a fond smile back at him.

"Tea or an injection, Mr Howell, and I did not think you were a masochist."

Vesca groaned, dropped his head back to rest on the seat of the lounge. "Whatever," he groaned. "Just make my headache go 'way."

Dee's hand appeared above him, bearing a tea cup resting in a matching, delicate saucer. "If the endorphins in this do not help, then sex should," he said with perfect seriousness. Vesca stopped with the tea halfway to his lips, and stared at him.

Dee smiled, violet eyes lighting with mischief, head tilting flirtatiously to one side. "Why, Vesca..." he purred, "Would you prefer the second option?" There was something in the curve of his lips in that moment that sent shivers down Vesca's spine, something in the way those violet eyes were half-obscured by long, dark hair that turned his breath suddenly short and sharp. He slammed the cup down on the table and hauled himself dizzily to his feet.

"Headache's gone! Thanks for the tea! Gotta start studying for Wednesday!"

The asian man just stood there, watching the blond man's humiliating retreat with that smug, cream-filled-cat smile on his face. "The offer stands, Vesca." He said as the door slammed shut, and his smile became a little sadder, a little crueller, all at the same time.

"Do come again."


End file.
